


It Was Only Just A Dream

by easefuldays



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easefuldays/pseuds/easefuldays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis never asked why Harry was there. He never told him why he was, either. They lived in comfortable silence, the two of them orbiting around each other, waiting for something to crash and set them off. </p>
<p>It wasn't Harry who crashed first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Only Just A Dream

The road was littered with stray pebbled and led to a cluster of Victorian style houses surrounding one enormous, office-like building. He found himself being led toward the building and not the endearing houses, but when does anything turn out like it was intended?

            He was guided through the doors, a hand gripping his forearm just enough to remind him that he can’t wiggle out and run away. He sighed, willing one leg in front of the other and occasionally flexing his muscle to check if the hand was still there. It was.

            He was guided through the doors and led up some stairs and was gently placed in a chair and handed a clipboard and a pen. He felt himself being watched by the receptionist and the body of The Hand, he scribbled down the information required on the clipboard as quickly as possible, _Name:_ _Harry Styles. Date of birth: 2/1/95. Reason for admittance: Attempted suicide via bridge._

            He thought jumping would be the best way to go. If he did it right, he thought, it’d be less painful than a gun, a rope, or a blade. He looked into the bridges in his area to see which would be best, and apparently picked the worst. Because not only was there water under that bridge there was also a couple fishing near where his body landed and rushed to revive him as soon as possible. When his father found out, he sent him here, “ _Maybe this place will finally make you normal.”_

            Maybe.

After filling out the paperwork and giving up his belongings and getting a pat-down from The Hand, he was guided into a room at the end of the hall and, for the first time since stepping on the pebbled road, was left alone.

             Well, almost.

            The room contained two twin beds: one was empty with a tidy pile of sheets stacked on the end, and the other contained a body, a boy resembling a burrito due to the way his sheets wrapped around his body. He sighed, sitting on the unmade bed. He breathed in the stale hospital air and thought, _this is home, at least for a bit._

                                                                        x

            Harry was startled awake by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He didn’t remember falling asleep, the last thing he could pull up was staring at the burrito-wrapped boy and wondering who he was. He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, and was met with the sight of a shaggy haired, blue-eyed boy sitting on the end of his bed.

            “It’s almost dinner,” the boy said.

            “Okay,”

            “I’m Louis,” the boy said, extending his hand.

            “Harry,”  
            They shook hands and Harry felt a shock as he wrapped his fingers around Louis’. This, whatever he was, was going to be interesting.

                                                                        x

            The floor was filled with misplaced people. Some were here for things similar to Hunter, they were a little messed up in the head and needed some loose bolts tightened. And then there were others, others who saw things that weren't there. Others who heard hushed voices whisper in their ear when no one was standing close enough. Others who were losing their sanity, one small drip at a time.

            Louis never asked why Harry was there. He never told him why he was, either. They lived in comfortable silence, the two of them orbiting around each other, waiting for something to crash and set them off.

            It wasn’t Harry who crashed first.

            He woke up one night to the sound of someone banging on the door, and jolted out of bed when he turned and saw Louis slamming his head against the wall, his fingers tearing at his forearms, leaving behind bloody track marks.

            “Hey hey hey,” Harry whispered, trying to get himself in Louis’ line of vision before making any move. He didn’t know how to do this, how to handle someone who was teetering over the edge. For a second, he saw Louis’ eyes shift to him before aligning themselves back at the wall, and that was all Harry needed before placing a hand on his shoulder.

            “It’s okay, Louis. It’s okay”

            It wasn’t.

            Not in the slightest.

            But he kept whispering hushed assurances that it was. He spoke and spoke and spoke until Louis’ fingers slowed their descent on his forearms and he leaned his head against the wall instead of slamming into it. There was a dent there, and his forehead was bruised. But for now, he was okay. They breathed together.

           

            It seemed that after their small interaction, they couldn’t stay away from each other. Maybe that single touch, maybe Harry placing his hand on Louis’ shoulder, was all they needed to set each other off.

            Love isn’t always gradual.

            Sometimes it’s a steady descent down.

            They didn’t just fall in love, they burned.

            They smuggled their fisted hands in between their bodies when in public places, like sitting on the couch in the common room or walking down the hallway. They locked their ankles around each other’s when eating, often sharing food from each others plates even though they got the same pre-portioned dinners. They pushed their beds together at night so they could feel each others’ heartbeat when they fell asleep pretending to count the blackened stars on their ceiling. They dreamt about a future, a forever, outside of this dingy facility and for the first time in their lives, they felt like they were doing something real.

            Sometimes, late at night, after they’d counted every single blackened star and traced every constellation, Louis would bring up the idea of getting out.

            “Can you imagine it? Running away? Together?”

            Harry shrugged.

            “It’d be so freeing, just the two of us running through the abandoned tuberculosis wards, through the woods, through the city,”

            His voice adopted a dreamlike quality when he spoke like this. Harry often lost himself in the words without focusing on the meaning. It was easier to lose yourself in the dream than face their reality.

           

            Louis didn’t believe that, though, and started drawing up plans for their impending escape.

            “I have a family friend who lives right outside of the woods, I called him today. He said he wouldn’t mind housing us for a bit while we get ourselves together after we bust out,”  
            He was pacing around the room, itching idly at the marks on his arm from his last attack.

            “And then I was figuring we could get the hell out of this god forsaken state all together and just be, maybe somewhere near the ocean. Maybe we could get a dog, too. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

            He seemed the most at peace when frantically discussing their escape plans. It was all too easy to get lost in him.

                                                                        x

            Harry woke up one night to an emptiness on the other side of the bed. He found Louis sitting at the edge of the bed, much like the first time they met, staring out the window. He felt Harry move beneath the sheets and turned to him.

            “You don’t want to do this, do you?”

            Silence.

            “I don’t know.”

                                                                        x

            Life went on.

            They were still stuck together like glue, still orbited around each other but weren’t afraid to crash, but at night instead of counting invisible stars on the ceiling and talking about their future, they sat in silence, wrapped up in each other, counting instead each others freckles and eyelashes in the moonlight.

            It was peaceful, they were content, as content as one could be in an institution. Being together made it easy to forget where they were, what they were.

                                                                        x

           

            Harry couldn't tell if he was dreaming.

            He and Louis were walking outside of the building, hand in hand, wandering through the abandoned tuberculosis wards and peeling chipped paint off the walls. They could almost hear the echo of the children who once lived there. But all Harry could feel was Louis’ fingers curled around his. The moonlight made Louis look like a pixie, with his shaggy hair and blue eyes and sun kissed skin. He was even more beautiful, even more dream-like then than ever before.

            Harry felt pressure on his forehead.

            But it was gone before he could react.

            Maybe that was part of the dream, too.

                                                                        x

            Harry woke up to an empty room.

            Louis’ bed was pushed back against the wall, sheets stacked tidily on the end of his bed, much like Hunters were when he first got there. His closet was empty, his nightstand was rid of his glasses and his book.

            He was gone, erased from time and space.

            It was almost as if he were never there to begin with.

                                                                        x

            The nurses said Louis ran away sometime in the early morning, stormed through the tuberculosis wards and through the woods.

            Harry wondered if he got to the house on the other side, or if he headed straight out of this god forsaken state and is now on his way to somewhere with an ocean nearby.

            Harry wondered if he was real, or something he made up in his head.

                                                                        x

            Life went on.

                                                                        x

           

            The road was littered with stray pebbles. It was supposed to be paved smooth, but when does anything turn out like it was intended?

            The road was littered with stray pebbled as Harry walked away from the cluster of Victorian style houses surrounding one enormous, office-like building. He found himself walking away from the building and from the endearing houses. When does anything turn out like it was intended?


End file.
